Elder Scrolls V: Ancients
by SerenitysWillow
Summary: After the events of Skyrim, Dragonborn and Dawnguard, the Dragonborn meets a member of one of the ancient civilisations lost to Tamriel, but then five members of five different races are found, she must go on a quest to find the Diadem of the Lost Diamonds; an unique artifact made by fragments of Dwemer, Falmer, Ayleids, Aldmer, and Chimer crowns, to bring back the Ancient Races.
1. Chapter 1

**Set after the events of Skyrim, Dawnguard, and Dragonborn. The Dragonborn can be any race you want, and any name you want to call her. I won't mention her race, age, eye colour, hair colour, skin colour, name, anything. It's your decision. I'm making the Dragonborn female because I think a female Dragonborn will suit this story. **

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><p><em>Elder Scrolls V: Ancients<em>

The rain of First Seed pounded on the Dragonborn's body as she continued her climb up the mountain. She grumbled insults as her foot got caught in some snow, laying on the mountain. She tugged and tugged, her frustration only building when her other foot got stuck in the snow only a few minutes.

"I'm the Guildmaster of Skyrim's Thieves Guild-a Nightingale-Leader of the Dark Brotherhood-the Arch-Mage of Winterhold-Thane of Riften, Morthal, Dawnstar, Solitude, Whiterun, Windhelm, Markarth, and Falkreath-the Last Dragonborn-And I'm taken down by some snow!" she said, pulling one of her feet with each title. She huffed and gave up, staring at the ground, tears prickling her eyes. She wiped them away, shaking her head to get the thought of crying out of her system. Crying wasn't one of her specialities, unless someone infuriated her to no end.

She didn't have the time to cry any more, she had seen things no one had ever seen since the Dragon Ages. She had fought Dragons, Draugr, Giants, Werewolves, Dwemer Automations, Gargoyles, Death Hounds, Bonemen, Wrathmen, Mistmen, the Falmer, Chaurus, Bandits, Frost Giants, Vampires, Armoured Trolls, Boneyard Keepers, a Vampire called Lord Harkon, Ash Spawns, Seekers, Lurkers, Rieklings, Tusked Bristlebacks and even the First Dragonborn. How she hadn't turned mad was a mystery even to her.

"Shadowmere!" she shouted, throwing the shovel she had pulled out of her pack only a seconds ago to the ground. Even a shovel (she didn't remember picking up on her travels) couldn't get her out of the pathetic snow. A snort answered her call and she smiled in relief as the said horse came trotting over to her. His red eyes pierced hers and she grinned, petting his nose. She grabbed his mane and patted her side with her other hand.

"And lift!" he began to back away, slowly pulling her out of her the small holes made by her feet. When she was free she let go of Shadowmere, shaking the snow below her knees off her. When she thought she was un-snowy enough she climbed onto the red eyed horse's back.

"Do you think you can carry me up that mountain?" she asked. He snorted in response and began to walk towards the mountain.

She let out a sigh of contempt as she took in the wildlife of Skyrim. She had been in Skyrim for three years now, and she didn't it in her heart to leave the winter-clad province. The first year she had been there she had discovered she was the Dragonborn and, with the help of the Blades and Paarthurnax, she had defeated Alduin, who had been transported to Skyrim by an Elder Scrolls hidden away in Blackreach until she had found it and used it to help her learn the Dragonrend shout.

She had travelled to Sovngarde and with the strength of the three heroes of Sovngarde; Hakon One-Eye, Felldir the Old, and Gormlaith Golden-Hilt, they had banished the World-Eater from the world forever. Although, Arngeir and Paarhturnax theorized that he would come back to complete his destiny.

When that time comes, if it comes, another Dragonborn would rise, possibly one of her descendants, as the power of Dragonborn would pass on to her children, to their children's children, to their children's children's children and so forth, but only if Alduin came back. She was chosen to be Dragonborn because the Dragonborn before her had been killed before they had the chance to marry and conceive children, that Dragonborn though, was a completely different race.

In her second year she had joined the Dawnguard and confronted Lord Harkon, a Vampire Lord whose whole life centered around the Tyranny of the Sun prophecy, which needed Auriel's Bow, a bow used by the Snow Elf God Auriel in his battle against the forces of Lorkhan during the Ehlnofey Wars of the Dawn Era, and the blood of a Daughter of Coldharbour; a woman who is offered to the Daedric Prince, Molag Bal, and if they survive they become a Vampire Lord.

Harkon's daughter Serana and his wife Valerica were both Daughters of Coldharbour, and because Valerica locked herself away in the Soul Cairn with one Elder Scroll and hid Serana in Dimhallow Crypt with the other the Elder Scroll, Harkon had to wait centuries before he could try and complete his life quest.

The useless Dragonborn, as she had heard some people call her, stopped his plans with the help of Serana, who, after they had stopped Harkon, brought her mother back from the Soul Cairn and became the new Leader of Clan Volkihar. It had been a year since she had seen Serana, who became one of her best friends, and she planned to visit her soon during the month of Heartfire.

This year she had nearly been killed by some followers of the First Dragonborn, Miraak, and travelled to the island of Solstheim to investigate her near death experience where she was pulled into the Oblivion realm of Apocrypha ruled by the Daedric Prince, Hermaeus Mora, who helped her, along with the Skaal Village, to defeat Miraak with the Black Books. She ventured into dwemer ruins, temples, and rode a dragon to kill the First Dragonborn.

She learned new shouts and met new people, she had became a member of House Telvanni in a week and was Morrowind nobility when Neloth, a Telvanni wizard, returned to Morrowind. She would probably be dead when he went back, as he was a Dark Elf who lived longer than 500 years, or if they were lucky, 1,000 to 2,000 years.

She returned to Skyrim a year later, and had to be attacked by the constant worrying of Brynjolf; her second in command and a fellow Nightingale, Serana, Karliah; another Nightingale, Aranea Ienith; the Last Priestess of Azura, Marcurio; her Steward in her home near Riverwood who was also a mage, Lydia; her Housecarl in her Breezehome in Whiterun, Babette; a Dark Brotherhood vampire-girl specializing in alchemy, Nazir; another Dark Brotherhood member, all of the Dark Brotherhood, the Thieves Guild, the College of Winterhold and all of the Jarls and Housecarls she had in Skyrim.

They were the most people she knew in one province, even though she had fought besides Queen Barenziah when the Argonians ransacked Mournhold, led Valenwood in an attempt to protect their province from the Aldmeri Dominion and stopped the Direnni Tower from being destroyed in High Rock, and she, the Last Dragonborn, was the great-granddaughter to Empress Kintrya Septim's II lead headmaiden, and died at Glenpoint when she tried to warn her best friend of seventeen years that it was all trick, they both had been executed together, but their bodies were missing.

She was a hero in every province for different things, but Skyrim kept her there, for reasons unknown even to her.

Shadowmere snorted, gaining her attention and she noticed they had reached the top of the mountain, but had to climb over the rest of it to get to their destination. She had been drawn to the attention of this mountain only a day ago when mysterious blue light appeared on the mountain, and the College of Winterhold was called in to investigate the light, because nearly all her students were busy with experiments she decided to make the journey by herself. Maybe it was a new ore? Or a new artifact from the Dwemers no one had found yet?

She smiled at this possibly new discovery and jumped off Shadowmere, tying him to piece of rock sticking out of the mountain. He snorted and gave her a look and she grinned. "Don't want you falling do we?" she got another snort in return.

She made sure her pack was secured to herself and began to climb over the top of the mountain, grunting and groaning in pain. She stopped at the top and peaked over, gripping the rock so she didn't fall. Talking and the wind howling reached her ears and she looked down in curiosity at a small figure, the size of a child.

A flicker of blue reached the corner of her eyes and she turned her head to see what looked to be a transparent door; blue, which could possibly be the light. She leaned against the rock and pulled out her journal and charcoal, beginning to furiously scribble a picture of the portal, labelling and writing down her thoughts and watched as it slowly closed, the light disappearing. She cursed, loudly than she thought, and paled when the small figure turned and looked up at her.

Her eyes widened.

The charcoal and the journal fell out of her hands, hitting the ground in front of the unknown figure.

Her mind went numb as she took in the unbelievable sight before her.

_"Uh, hello?" _the figure asked, in a language the Dragonborn had researched and taught herself since she was a small child. The figure walked forward and picked up the charcoal and journal, inspecting the journal with interest. She then looked up at the Dragonborn, smiling slightly.

"You speak Common?" she called, her dark eyes staring up at the Dragonborn, kindness shining in her eyes.

"Ye-Woah!" the rock she had been leaning against broke and she rolled down, landing with a grunt on the ground before the female.

"Oh! Are you alright?" she asked, running forward and helping her up. The Dragonborn stumbled back from her, her eyes wide with interest and fear.

"You're a...Dwemer?" she answered. The female Dwarf nodded, smiling.

"Yes, where am I? I don't recognize this mountain in the maps of Dwemereth before." the Dwemer asked, looking around in confusion. The Dragonborn's heart nearly stopped. She didn't know where she was, or what happened to her race, or where they went.

"I...Come with me, and you can tell me everything about yourself...?" she gestured for her name and the Dwarf smiled.

"Amarthelthel, the only daughter and eldest child of King Dumac, and the Crown Princess and future Queen of Clan Resdayn,"

Resdayn was the former name of Morrowind when the Dwemer ruled, and was usually called Dunmereth. Back then, the Dwemer clans in Morrowind were ruled by King Dumac, Amarthelthel's father. Dumac and Indoril Nerevar, Leader of the Chimer, formed the First Council, uniting Dwemer and Chimer against the Nords. They broke up the First Council and brought on the Battle of Red Mountain, Dumac being killed by Neverar. But did Amarthelthel know that?

_"Amarthelthel..._weird name."

"I know," she sighed, and the Dragonborn smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

**_The name Amarthelthel is pronounced - 'Ar-ma-fell-fell' with the f's said as 'th'._**

**_Ama is pronounced 'Aye-Ma', and Amar is obviously pronounced as 'Ar-Mar'. _**

**_I hope I portray Amarthelthel correctly in this story; a fun, loving, optimistic dwarf who scares people with her seriousness and cares quite a lot for her race and her friends, even the ones she doesn't get a long with. _**

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><p><em>Elder Scrolls V: Ancients<em>

Night was already above Winterhold; rain continued to pound down as the singing of the Nords filled the cold air from The Frozen Hearth Inn. Haran was sweeping the floor as her husband, Dagur, filled tankard after tankard with Black-Briar Mead or Alto Wine for the customers sitting or standing around the room, dancing and singing along to the singing their daughter Eirid was providing. Nelacar, an altmer mage, was sitting in the corner, sipping some Nord Mead as he watched the other races interact with their surroundings.

The Dragonborn watched the dwarf in front of her, her eyes scanning her as she ate, throwing food after food in her mouth. A smile crawled onto her lips as the Dwemer's cheeks blew up from how much food filled her, and Amarthelthel ignored the curious and shocked glances thrown her way from the other inhabitants of the inn. The dwarf chewed and chewed, looking up at the Dragonborn and sending her a big grin, swallowing the food. 'For a small person she does eat loads,' the taller woman thought.

The taller woman had told everything about her life to the small dwarf; her childhood, her adventures across Tamriel, how she destroyed Alduin, stopped Lord Harkon from completing the Tyranny if the Sun prophecy, and killed the First Dragonborn, Miraak. Amarthelthel was fascinated by her stories, and listened intentively to the stories of how she joined the Thieves Guild, (noticing that the Fearless Dragonborn blushed whenever she mentioned a man named Brynjolf), became the Leader of the Dark Brotherhood, rode a dragon, and her adventures of her rise to Thane. She gasped, awed, glared, grinned and growled angrily at the right times (once when she discovered Mercer Frey's betrayal) and gave her own advice to the Dragonborn when she told the Dwarf of her best friend's stories.

Amarthelthel grabbed the cloth next to her and wiped her mouth, dabbing at the corners of her lips before coughing, covering her mouth and sending her a small smile of apology, surprising the Dragonborn. She had read somewhere that Dwarves thought they were a superior race, and that manners didn't imply to them; apparently, it only implied to a handful, and that Amarthelthel must have grew up learning manners. Well, she was a Princess, and the Crown Queen of 'Morrowind', so someone must have taught her.

"So, Amar, can I call you Amar?" the Dragonborn asked. The dwarf's eyes flickered up and locked onto hers, she leaned forward, all kindness gone and replaced with a serious expression which made the older woman lean back, gulping. 'If looks could kill,' she thought.

"No one, calls me Amar. Ever." she hissed, her eyes flashing with anger.

"Noted," she squeaked, grabbing her own throat, her eyes widening in terror at the tone in her voice. The anger on her face disappeared and Amarthelthel grinned, the kindness enveloping her eyes once again.

"But you can call me Ama." she said, making the Dragonborn agree, the look she was throwing the taller woman made a mutual agreement to never call her that again, and that she had no other choice to call her Ama.

"Okay, Ama, what were your race like?" she asked, rummaging through her bag and pulling out a new journal she had brought only days before in Whiterun. She grabbed some charcoal and opened the book, scribbling the word 'The True Natures of the Dwemer' on the front page. She flipped to the next page and looked up at Ama, who was looking at her oddly.

"Why couldn't you ask another member of my race? They're probably in our cities building and researching, the capital city is not far from here, you can go there, it leads underground, to an never-ending city where large quantities of my race lived, Fahl Zhardum Din." Ama said, nibbling at some bread. Falh Zhardum Din was the Dwemeris for 'Blackreach', a large destroyed city underground run by Falmer, Chaurus and glowing mushrooms. The Dragonborn hadn't really explored the whole thing (as there is a teal fog in Blackreach which makes it's size difficult to grasp) but she did know, from the abandoned buildings dotted around and the last surviving part of the city (right in the center) that it may have been the Dwemer's capital city in Skyrim. From the far of look in the Dwarf's eyes, it looked like she may have been to Blackreach before, possibly helping her father with political affairs.

"Was the city pretty?" she asked. Amarthelthel looked up at her and grinned.

"It was beautiful; miners worked at the rock trying to find a certain magical material, Aetherium, my fathers' crown was made from that and so was every Dwemer King or Queen's crown if you think about it, but the miners were also trying to make the city bigger; the cathedral was a girl's dream, the market place was overflowing with Dwemer and the city itself," she gave a goofy yet dreamy smile and she threw her arms into the hair, her hands luckily not holding the bread. "Oh, a magical place! And the sun-it was gorgeous-because they didn't have the sun they made their own-WHICH, might I add-is decorated to look like eyes! Well, that's what I think they look like anyway-but you should see it!" she collapsed back into her chair, grinning for ear to ear, holding in her excitement. "You can learn more from the Dwemer living there! Oh! Can I come? Can I? can I? can I?!" she begged, looking up, and along at the woman in front of her.

The Dragonborn's excited look dropped, and she looked at Ama in shock, who stared right back at her. The taller one put her journal and charcoal away silently before staring at the dwarf again.

"What's wrong? You look pale," Ama said, pointing at her face. The Dragonborn wanted to be sick, all these feelings and emotions washed over her as question after question clouded her mind until she was trying to control her breathing. Ama jumped up and rushed forward, pressing a hand on her shoulder.

"Look at me," she commanded. When she did Ama cupped her face, surprising even herself because of her smallness.

"Take a deep breathe, and let it out; deep breathe, let it out, deep breathe, let it out," she said. The Dragonborn did as she said, her heartbeat slowing down until it became regular again. Ama let go and sat back down, staring at her. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you," the Dragonborn breathed, smiling at Ama.

"Now, why did you ask me what my race _were_ like? Did something happen?" she asked curiously, her eyes flashing with worry. The Dragonborn closed her eyes and took a breathe, reopening them.

"Ama, the Dwemer-your race-are extinct. They disappeared a millennia ago, in the First Era." she said. Ama slumped, her jaw dropping and gasping like a fish, her eyes widening in shock. She leaned against the wall behind her, covering her mouth in horror at her words.

"No, no you're lying!" she cried, jumping up. The nearby people looked over, listening to the strange creature and the Dragonborn's heated discussion. The said-woman jumped up after the Dwemer as she ran to the door, throwing it open and disappearing into the cold winter night. The Dragonborn threw down some gold and threw her nightingale hood over her head, running after the small woman into the darkness.

"Shadowmere!" she called, the hooves of the horse pounded onto the thick snow and she jumped onto him, digging her heels into his sides to get him to move. "Find Amarthelthel! Now!" he neighed and reared back before he began to run up the path, his hooves slamming against the ground as she pulled out a lantern from her pack (Yet again, she didn't remember where she picked it up) and lit it with some fire, lightening their path.

"AMARTHELTHEL!" she called, but the only thing she heard was the wind howling in her ears and the snow blinding her vision as it fell down from the storm. Shadowmere continued trotting at a fast pace, nearing the Shrine of Azura on the small cliff in front of the path. She turned the horse towards it and ran up the small hill, stopping when she saw Aranea praying to the Daedra Prince (or Princess as some followers argued) of Dusk and Dawn.

"Aranea!" she called from the bottom. Aranea turned and looked down, lowering her hands as she addressed the Dragonborn.

"Yes, Champion of Azura?" she called.

"Have you seen a small woman-the size of a child-run past here?" she shouted through the storm. Aranea was a bit confused; the Pale, so close to the Sea of Ghosts, was no place for a child to be wandering around, certainly in this bitter weather, and possibly a small women defenceless? The Dark Elf couldn't imagine what the poor women was thinking, or getting herself into when a confused and (for once) frightened Dragonborn was searching for her.

"No, I have not." she answered back, her voice being carried by the wind. The Dragonborn cursed.

"If you see a small women run by notify me!" she called and left with a quick goodbye, leaving the Priestess in utter confusion and worry for a woman she barely knew, and a woman she cared a lot for.

The Dragonborn kept shouting for Ama when she had lost sight of the shrine, her voice being lost in the storm. Shadowmere had slowed down, trying to push through the snow, shivering uncontrollably. She patted his mane, trying to calm him down and try (and fail) to warm him up.

"We need to find shelter, boy!" she called, but from her view, she couldn't see any. She sighed, and looked up at the sky, glaring and wiping the snow away from her face.

"LOK VAH KOOR!" she roared, smiling when the sky began to clear, showing the Aurora Borealis dancing in the night. She grinned and began to move Shadowmere again, looking around for the female Dwarf. She only had a minute before the storm returned and the shout weared off, so she had to be quick and fast.

"Where can she be?" she muttered to herself, peering into the distance in all angles. Her eyes widened when a thought hit her, and she turned, a knowing smile of horror and achievement growing on her lips.

Ama was going to Alftand. To Blackreach, and the Dragonborn knew why. Not to see for herself, or to confront her fears for her race.

But to mourn, and Amarthelthel needed comfort.

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><p><em><strong>Another characters jumps into this in the next chapter, one of the ancient races obviously, but can you guess what race? ;)<strong>_


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